Caramel
by morphemes
Summary: (Modern AU) Who knew heartbreak could exist to the sound of cash registers and spoon on mugs? A bet, a boy, a coffee shop and a girl Eren never wanted to hurt.


HELLO INTERNET I've been uploading a lot of stuff lately, mostly splitting looooong one shots into mini multi chapters so I'm more motivated to continue them. So yeah, here you have an ereri coffee shop AU that was originally began for my friend Carmen's birthday but I SUCK and never finished it and got distracted by ayn but I think she deserves me being a little more motivated about it.

I love you Carmen and I'm sorry I decide to write 47398530 things at once 3

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy the first chapter!

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Chapter One

Nothing good ever came out of "it all started with a bet." Nothing.

Of course, when you had eleven boys from your football team cornering you in the locker room, with the high of a won game, and the smell of mud, grass and sweaty armpits stuck up your nose, you would probably agree to anything. We, the Titans, had beaten the Hounddogs by a landslide, thanks to Armin's statistical (also known as "genius") game plan and some pretty strong teamwork. We weren't just a team though; we were best friends.

And it was a known fact: best friends didn't let other best friends live happy, stress-free, bet-free lives. Not the Titans.

"You brought this upon yourself."

"I know."

"So, stop sulking. You're scaring away potential customers."

I glanced up from my knotted hands towards the door I was facing. I had sat right in front of it, on the stool at the counter, and, when I looked, I saw a small boy, holding a red balloon on a string. He was only about six years old and was glancing between me and the waiter behind me. I didn't even have time to smile reassuringly at him; his lip trembled, he let out a small cry and rushed towards a woman gossiping with another child-bearing lady in the seating area to the side. The boy's mother didn't look up as her son threw himself into her arms but he did, a peer over his bony shoulder, before he yelped at the sight of both of us watching him and buried his head further into his mom's neck. I let out a sigh, not bothering to conceal it. That sigh was my general outlook on life.

"Now, look what you've done."

"Me?" I swivelled around to glare at him. He was sorting through a box of chocolate bars to set up next to the till. He stopped, however, to give me a pitying look. "What did I do?"

"Your face." _How old is this guy again? 20 or 12?_

He didn't actually look his age. He was short – shorter than I and even Armin – but the darkness that radiated off him like an aura (or a bad omen) and the constant need for coffee gave him the status he needed. That status would be College Kid, unstable and angry. Pair that constantly disgruntled expression with long-ish black hair over a harsh undercut and a series of sweaters that he wore with the name tag: _Levi_, he was not a force to be reckoned with.

I snorted. "Coming from you? You look ready to kill someone!"

His gaze was as dark as his tone and his tone as dark as his words. "Don't tempt me."

I grumbled a couple of swear words under my breath that I was sure he heard. His only response was a, "You're taking your bad mood out on me, Eren," called over his shoulder casually, as he did whatever people did with coffee machines other than make coffee.

"Oh, God, I'm _so_ sorry," I called back sarcastically. "Feel free to dump a shitload of caffeine into my beverage. I would like to die on a _high_."

"You're being overdramatic. If this bet bothers you so much, just quit." He shrugged slightly. "It's simple."

I groaned quietly and dropped my head to the counter. "You're not getting it. It's not _that_ simple."

"Well, if it's any kind of simple, seize the opportunity. Carpe Diem."

I lifted my head to blearily blink at him. "Doesn't that mean seize the day?"

"That too."

He got no answer from me except another frustrated groan and the gentle sound of forehead meeting counter. Surprisingly, he didn't talk about the germs on my face connecting with his precious counter. He would probably wipe it clean as soon as I got up anyway.

Levi was not a familiar friend. When the first semester of my last year of high school had rolled around, he had started working in the coffee shop that I had frequented in for the past two and a half years to do my homework. He was stony, unapproachable and glared at me unforgivably if I spilt anything on his spotless tables. It was now spring time and things were no different, except, somewhere along the timeline of gold leaves disintegrating and new green ones taking their place, I had spoken to him and, miraculously, he had spoken back.

I wouldn't have called us friends but acquaintances made things feel impersonal – which they were but I pretended otherwise, when the weather was still cold enough to turn my hand blue and I needed a scalding coffee cup to warm them up. There was that too; Levi made a fantastic caramel cappuccino.

"Look, it's- it's different with us guys, okay?" I sighed and rested my chin on my folded arms across the counter top as I spoke. "We made a bet that Reiner couldn't go two weeks without masturbating once-"

"Gross." Levi didn't pull a face to match the word. His face was already set in a permanent 'gross' expression.

"-and we all never left him alone." I thought fondly of the memory. "Connie kicked him in the face at one point for scratching his waist. He was on the Celibate Reiner side. No one wants to lose ten dollars because their friend can't keep it in their pants."

"How did that work?"

"It didn't. Reiner caved at a week and a day and jacked off in the gym store rooms when we sent him to get us more training cones."

"Lovely," he said, still wearing the 'gross' expression.

I laughed and Levi ignored that. "My point is bets are extreme."

"Then why did you agree?" He sounded almost exasperated but this was Levi – the guy had about as much expression as a coffee cup.

"Because bets are extreme!"

Levi didn't talk to me until he had to clock out of work and even then, he sat beside me as I continued sulking, even though the coffee shop would be closing in half an hour.

"It's a bad idea," he finally said. He had drank two coffees – he had a surprising sweet tooth but was still into the average, bitter coffee – and that was the only conclusion he could draw up? Unbelievable.

"I know that but I'm still going to do it. For the team."

"You win games for the team; you don't attempt immature, emotionally harmful bets for them."

"I can do both."

He stood up suddenly and didn't look at me when he spoke. "Get out. It's closing time."

"I still have fifteen minutes-"

"And your dignity. You'll lose one of them soon enough. Try to obey the other."

I rolled my eyes. "Aye, aye, Captain." Levi rolled his eyes at the nickname I had given him once I felt our friendship was in a somewhat semi comfortable stage. He hadn't killed me yet. Sometimes, I pretended that he secretly enjoyed the nickname and my teasing, therefore my company. I wasn't suicidal so I kept the thought to myself.

Even though it wasn't his turn to, Levi closed up the café. I hung about for no particular reason at all and Levi was indifferent to my presence as he pocketed his keys and began his walk home. We had walked the same way multiple times before but no further than where we both slit up.

Today was no different.

I nodded and said my goodbye and began my walk away until I heard my name spoken softly into the wind that carried it to my ear. "Eren?"

I turned, my expression a question. There was no answer on Levi's but instead a question too. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find a girlfriend and keep her for three months." There was no other way of saying it but it sounded simple enough – too simple, in fact.

There was a brief hesitation in Levi's answer, as if he didn't know what to say. "You do realise that, at the end of it all, the person that's going to hurt the most, Eren, is you."

Blinking, I answered slowly, half confused, half teasing, "I play football for fun. Hurt is the one thing I can handle."

He nodded once, looking at me as if he wasn't quite _seeing_ me, and then turned away. "Good luck."

"Gentlemen." Coach Dot Pixis was one half of our assigned torturers. Coach Keith Shadis was the other guy, who answered to Pixis. Dot called the shots and Coach Shadis enforced them. Out of both guys, I didn't know who was worse but quickly settled for Shadis: at least Coach Pixis didn't look ready to scrape out your eyeballs if you were out of breath after lap three.

For some unknown reason, Coach Pixis had called me, Reiner and Bertholdt away from training with the others. We weren't a ridiculous length away so I could hear the sound of a football being thrown full force into Connie. Armin was scolding Jean for his own regime of training and told him to stick to the plan. When Connie hit the floor from the force of Jean's throw, Marco called Jean a rude word that Coach Pixis ignored and Coach Shadis agreed with. Jean really was a-

"Now, I'm sure you're all wondering why I've pulled you aside," Dot said, in his calm voice that didn't seem suitable on a football field full of swearing and chanting.

Bertholdt and I both looked at Reiner who stood in between us; he was the talker. "Uh, yes, Coach. We're not in trouble, are we?"

I already knew the answer to that question. The locker rooms were fairly clean and we had won three out of four of our season matches. After a long winter break, we were going in strong. He had no reason to complain.

"No. As surprising as that may be for some of you" – I ignored his raised eyebrows in my direction and shuffled nervously (me and Pixis butted heads a lot when I first joined the sophomore team that he also had authority over) – "I'm actually here for a favour, of sorts."

"Favour?" Reiner sounded confused and, already, Bertholdt was sweating. The guy got nervous over everything. It was hilarious.

Coach Pixis looked over his shoulder at all the ones training on the field. Running, stretching, kicking, slamming into each other, being yelled at by Armin and Marco - it was a familiar sight. When he turned back, he said, "Though you're all a very good team, you three excel."

He started pacing in front of us, head low, as if deep in thought. He stopped in front of Reiner first and looked him square in the eye. "You're a team worker, Reiner, and you're damn good at it. You're obviously made for this sport and you're the scare factor for the other teams. No one beats Braun. Every team needs one of you and we're lucky to have such a strong advantage to not only our image but our whole team."

"Thank you, Coach." We were confused but we took praise and we took it with respect. We were subject, more often than not, to abuse down our ears by Coach Shadis.

Coach Pixis continued his small walk in front of us. He then halted in front of Bertholdt, who swallowed nervously as his superior met his gaze. Bertholdt's hands were clasped behind his back – all of us were in the same position – and I imagined his nails were drawing blood but he stood tall and unflinching under the inspection.

Dot seemed to appreciate that. "You're sheer power, Bertholdt, my boy. You're a surprisingly strong and you're frightening in your own way." Coach chuckled quietly at his joke. "As unbelievable as that may seem. You and Reiner work particularly well together. You're a true credit to the team and you know your goals, know your team's goals too. I like that."

Bertholdt's eyes widened at the praise and he nodded once, expression determined and firm. "Thank you, sir!"

Coach began his pacing again. I knew where this was going. He walked an extra two lengths before finally drawing to a stop before me. His gaze was amused but impressed as I met it with some suspicion but mostly acknowledgement. Coach liked smart workers, hence why he appreciated Armin so much. I didn't have the brains of my best friend but I did know my way around the field. Even through past disputes, Coach Pixis had kept me in. He knew my worth.

"Ah, Eren Jaeger. You're a terror of a different kind."

_Well… that's a great start._

He put his hands on his hips and leant back a little to watch me watch him. It was a stare contest that I was determined not to break. Then he laughed. "You don't back down. You're crazy in your ideas. You're impulsive. You've got the loudest yell out of the whole team- hell, the whole town!"

Bertholdt and Reiner were both nodding in agreement. I felt my patience slipping. "Is there a positive in this, uh, speech, Coach?"

"They're all positives, Eren!" Pixis exclaimed, with laughter in his eyes. The wrinkles around them signified his age but, other than that, his bald head and grey moustache, his body was strong and probably capable of breaking bones. Sadists tended to smile a lot. He had probably broken bones through his career.

_And enjoyed it_.

Then again, not all sadists were smilers. Levi, for example-

Again, Coach interrupted my thoughts. "I have never met a kid so passionate about what he does, in anything. You don't have the physical attributes of the other members – neither the height or bulk of these two here" – a nod in the direction of my two smiling friends – "or the brains of people like Armin Arlert or Jean Kirshtein" – this was a perfect moment to hear Coach Shadis call Jean a 'stupid piece of-' – "but you're headstrong and you use your intuition. Hell of a spitfire too."

He paused, as if chewing over his words. He didn't speak for a minute so Reiner spoke up. "Uh, Coach? Is there a reason why you're telling us this? Not that we don't appreciate-"

"There's something missing," Coach interrupted swiftly, without looking at any of us. His hand held his chin as if he was deeply puzzled by his own statement.

"Missing?" Bertholdt repeated the word with confusion. "Do you mean our skills or-"

"The team," he corrected the taller boy. "You three are lacking someone."

All of us blinked at our coach. I was the first to speak, this time. "With all due respect, sir, we've got a full team and we're winning. Who could we possibly need?"

"Me."

We all turned towards the source of the single word. The occupant of the voice was a short girl. I almost mistook her for Christa Renz from my Chemistry class, a smiley, kind girl who had a subtle rivalry with Marco, as the nicest kid in school.

_Okay, this girl is definitely not smiling_.

"Annie?" I was surprised Bertholdt didn't stutter. I recognised her then.

Annie Leonhardt. We shared two classes – Maths and French. She excelled in both, from what I'd gathered, but kept to herself, sitting at the back of the classroom and often gazing out the window like some sort of anime heroine. Rumour told me she was European but rumour also told me that she had an anger issue. Honestly, she just reminded me of a short guy who worked in a café I frequented in – bored.

Like Christa, Annie was tiny in height, with blonde hair and blue eyes but, whilst Chemistry Christa looked delicate, Annie seemed anything but. She wore a rugby shirt that was far too big for her yet she still managed to look intimidating. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her shorts, at least, were the right size, showing off strong legs. I realised that I was staring and blinked at her face instead.

_Yep, definitely not a Christa_. Her light blue eyes were large but unforgiving, her nose straight and round at the end, her pale blonde hair pulled back into a bun and her mouth set in a line. She was pretty – not the kind of pretty that was loved and adored by all (_cough Christa cough_) – but unusually pretty, interestingly pretty. It was saying something to notice that at all. After all, you didn't notice the say wonderful facial structure of the person who looked ready to put their knee into your face.

Annie nodded once at Bertholdt. "Bert."

"Ah, Annie." Coach Pixis smiled and gestured her over. "Meet the Titan trio."

Annie walked over slowly to stand next to Pixis, completely dwarfed by Coach's height. She didn't look like she cared.

"Which one will I be kicking?" Her tone was flat. She meant business. Bertholdt, despite knowing her on a somewhat 'nickname' basis, was sweating again. Even Reiner was swallowing uncomfortably. Both of them probably knew Annie fairly well to know she was capable of kicking their asses. I wouldn't put it past her. She reminded me of my foster sister, Mikasa. Some girls just wanted to have fun, huh?

Pixis chuckled then pointed.

At me.

"_What?_"

Reiner let out a sigh of relief and Bertholdt looked ready to collapse, not even bothering to hide his smile. I glared at them both – all of them. "What the hell is going on? Why am I getting beaten up? Actually, why is _she_ here?"

"Is that a subtle dig at my gender?" Annie asked, with a raised brow.

"No, it's a not-so subtle dig at your entire being," I snapped back before looking accusingly at Pixis. "You've still got a vendetta against me."

"Maybe."

"Uh, Coach?" Ah, Reiner. He always knew when to step in. I wondered if there was visible smoke coming out of my ears. "What exactly is going on?"

Pixis didn't answer but, instead, Annie did. "They figured letting a girl on the team would benefit the performance."

Bertholdt looked thoughtful. "That's actually a good idea. Hey, Eren, maybe your sister could-"

"No." Mikasa was out of the question. She was out of the whole conversation. I met Annie's eyes as I spoke to Pixis. "That's all fair and dandy – this idea has been in the works for years – but what does that have to do with me getting treated like a punch bag?"

"Annie needs to learn the ways of this team, Eren. You're the one fit for the task." Pixis' tone left no room for argument. "Deal with it."

I stuttered over a reply until Reiner placed a comforting but warning hand on my shoulder. I deflated and nodded once. Unfortunately, authority didn't know when to quit. Pixis continued on. "You start private practices with her tomorrow. You don't show up, you don't play in any games and, if you don't play, you'll be off this team. Colleges don't like kick-outs."

"Then why are you letting her kick me?" Armin and Jean had stopped bickering in the distance to look over at the sound of me yelling. Breakdowns over tactics, any day.

"It's an expression," Annie inputted, with her small palm raised, as if she were in class. "I'm actually going to be tackling you."

"Even better," I replied wryly.

She almost smiled.

Pixis looked between us then nodded, as if satisfied with the small exchange. "That's settled then." Unbelievably, that was it. He just turned and walked away.

"Well…" Bertholdt laughed nervously. "That was-"

"I want to punch something," I interrupted darkly. Reiner patted the hand still on my shoulder, his face etched with sympathy.

Annie tilted her head to look at me- no, _analyse _ me. Already I could tell she would be dangerous on the field. Strands of blonde hair fell out of her bun. "You can't hit a girl."

"You can't hit anyone," Reiner corrected softly. He stuck out his free hand. "Welcome to the team."

I expected Annie to bat his hand away but she took it, though Reiner's shadow made her look weaker than ever. It was one of the first things I noticed about Annie Leonhardt. She didn't care how she looked.

Her eyes flickered to me and she noticed me staring. Her expression turned hard.

_As long as she's a good player._

I grinned, despite myself.

_Game on_.


End file.
